Grimm Past
by Warmill
Summary: Nicholasia Kessler,a Nineteenth Century Grimm, travels to a Monastery Castle to investigate who, or what, is being held in the castle's dungeon.


SOMEWHERE IN BAVARIA- 1838

The lightning bolt struck with a voracious flash, splitting an oak tree straight down the middle and instantly illuminating a Stone castle nestled amongst the thick forest trees. The rain came in torrents, creating a series of flash streams that flowed down wagon wheel ruts, cut deep into a dirt road now turned to mud. The road snaked all the way up to the castle gate.

A mysterious figure, covered in a hooded long coat, rode a black horse on past the gate, and up to the castle's large wooden door. The figure dismounted, tied off the horse under a protective overhang and, using the brass knob, pounded loudly enough to rattle the wooden door to announce its presence.

The door slate slowly opened, as a slight sliver of light, from a burning torch somewhere deep inside the castle, lightly illuminated the entrance. A harsh voice spoke from within.

"What do you want at this time of night?"

The figure at the door pulled back its hood, to reveal the face of a pretty girl with long, black hair and eyes that were dark and intense.

"My name is Nicholasia Kessler", she softly, yet firmly replied, "I am here by your request!"

The voice was impatient. "We have not requested the company of a female! This is a Monastery!"

"But you did make a request, did you not?" the girl cryptically smiled.

"Yes," the voice replied, "but we had contacted the council to request a Grimm!"

"I am a Grimm!" she sternly stated.

The slate immediately slapped shut. The sounds of unbolting locks preceded the door slowly creaking open.

"Come in!" the voice reluctantly invited.

Nicholasia Kessler quickly entered.

An old man, with a long white beard and longer gray hair, wearing a flowing robe, greeted her.

"They sent us a female Grimm?" the old man stated with surprise.

"You have a problem with that?" Nicholasia replied, "I assure you of my qualifications. I am a seventh generation Grimm!"

The old man saw in her eyes, a coldness that bellied her delicate, beautiful face.

"I guess we have no choice," he replied, "I…. am Brother Paul."

"And I…. am not planning on staying here long, Brother!" Nicholasia stated, "You sent a letter stating you have something in your dungeon you wish to be taken care of. So, I am here to take care of it!"

"Very well. Follow me!"

Nicholasia slipped off her long coat. She wore a suede leather vest over a white lace blouse, along with brown leather pants, and knee high, black leather riding boots. A flint pistol was holstered upon a hemp weaved belt. Strapped over her right shoulder was a pistol crossbow with a pouch containing ten bolts. Nestled in a black sheath, behind her back, was a Katanga sword, forged and imported from an Oriental mystic.

"It is down in the dungeon," Brother Paul said, as he opened a side door, that led to a flight of stairs, spiraling down into the dark.

Nicholasia followed.

"How many Monks reside at this Monastery?" Nicholasia asked.

"There are half a dozen, including me!" Brother Paul answered.

As they reached the dungeon floor, Brother Paul walked over to a wooden door, took a set of iron keys off a rack, and then inserted one key into a rusty lock. He struggled, but finally the lock snapped open with an echoing thunk.

With all his strength, he slowly swung the door open. They cautiously entered the dark dungeon.

Brother Paul reached around in the dark to feel for a torch that was hung on a hook. He found it, unhooked it, and then held it high above his head. The flame illuminated a dank room, revealing a wrought iron cage that sat in its center. Within that cage lay a figure.

"Awaken, you devil!" Brother Paul called out, "your executioner has arrived!"

The figure rolled over, revealing it to be a young girl with strawberry blonde hair.

"I don't understand!' the girl replied, "I haven't done anything wrong!"

"Don't believe anything this demon child tells you!" Brother Paul sternly warned.

Nicholasia looked closely at the child. She appeared normal. Maybe it was just the flicker of the torch that had cast a slight shadow across the cage, but Nicholasia thought she had glanced something. It was for only a second, but it was long enough.

Nicholasia immediately grabbed the pistol crossbow, took aim and fired. The bolt, loaded with Apitoxin, hits its mark, as it embedded itself deep into the neck of Brother Paul.

Paul let out an Ungodly scream, as he immediately morphed into a Hexenbeist! It immediately attempted to escape back out into the staircase, but the toxin coursed through its veins. Slumping to the floor, it attempted to crawl a few more feet. It soon died, just short of the door.

Nicholasia turned back to the girl, who had not a look of relief for the death of one of her capturers, but instead, a subtle look of fear!

"Th…Thank you, m' Lady," the young girl shakily replied, "I have been so frightened. They have kept me in this cage for weeks."

As she nervously cleared her throat, Nicholasia sensed something was not right.

"Beware," the girl continued, "there are others about, posing as Monks, but are, in reality, nothing more than Goblins! They planned on tricking you to arrive, so they could kill a Grimm!"

Nicholasia smiled, as the girl had dropped her guard for just a tenth of a second, long enough for Nicholasia to see realize what she really was.

"You seem to know a lot about what they planned on doing," Nicholasia said.

"They tended to boast about their clever plan!" the girl replied.

"How did you know I was a Grimm?" Nicholasia asked.

"I assumed you were," the girl answered, "when that false monk stated my executioner had arrived!"

"So they imprisoned you under the guise of being some creature of the night?" Nicholasia amusedly asked.

"Yes, m'Lady," the girl replied, "they used me as a trap!"

"Using you, a human, as the trap?" Nicholasia noted.

"Yes," the girl answered, innocently.

"But are you not a Mellifer?" Nicholasia knowingly asked.

The young girl gave her a startled look, "No, m'Lady! I'm as human as you!"

Nicholasia nodded, as she took the flint pistol and fired point blank! The girl screamed, as a dark mass bulged out where her human eyes had been, and her soft skin quickly transformed into leather like hide, as she slumped over onto the cage floor…dead.

'Nice deception!' Nicholasia thought, but she was certain this Mellifer female was correct. She had to heed the girl's warnings that there were others about!

Nicholasia quickly and quietly moved back up the stairs and on into the entranceway of the castle.

She then paused and listened. She could subtly hear footsteps, then whispers. Someone or something was coming!

Nicholasia quickly re-set the crossbow, inserting another bolt. She took out a pouch filled with gun powder and an iron bullet filled with Harker weed. Filling the flint hole with the powder, she then dropped the bullet into the barrel, and re-cocked the hammer, then waited in a shadow cast by the flickering flame of a nearby torch.

Soon, some Monks walked into the room. To a human they looked normal. To a Grimm, like Nicholasia, they were something else altogether.

Two of the five Monks carried Scythe's.

'Reapers!' Nicholasia cautiously thought, knowing she would have to take those two out first.

The Goblins stood still and listened. They seemed unsure whether the Goblin Brother Paul and the young Melifer, had accomplished their task. Their uncertainty was to Nicholasia's advantage.

She suddenly stepped out of the shadows, only to cast a larger shadow over the Goblin group which contributed, if only momentarily, to their initial confusion.

Nicholasia, holding the flint pistol in her left hand and the crossbow in her right, simultaneously aimed and fired.

The Crossbow bolt neatly pierced the first Scythe carrying Goblin! The wound, now in its green warted head, bled out a bluish liquid. Goblin blood! It fell to the stone floor with a thud!

The Flintlock ball penetrated the second Goblin directly through its left black and beady eye, exploding out the back of its head, taking chunks of deformed skull with it! It too, quickly collapsed!

One Goblin grabbed a torch off the wall and charged! Swinging the flaming torch wildly, Nicholasia quickly stepped back to keep from being burned! Another Goblin, in an attempt at entrapment, moved behind.

But this creature seemed to become momentarily blinded by the swinging torch and didn't notice Nicholasia de-sheath the Katanga sword, turn, and cleanly decapitate it with a swift slice!

The now headless Goblin's blood sprayed out, drenching Nicholasia, as well as the other torch carrying creature! As its headless torso tumbled to the floor, the bloody mist suddenly created a flame back that caught the other Goblin's robe on fire!

It screamed like a banshee, becoming engulfed in the flames! Dropping the torch, it ran down a darkened hall, until it finally collapsed, its flesh melting from the intense heat.

Nicholasia made a mental note, for future reference, to write in her journal that Goblin's blood was apparently very flammable.

The last Goblin now stood before her, weaponless. It stared at her with a look of both defiance and defeat. It slowly bowed its head.

"You are the victor, Grimm!" it warbled, "I am now at your mercy!"

Nicholasia held the sword tightly, as she slowly approached.

"Down on your knees, Goblin!" she commanded.

The Goblin immediately complied.

"May I remind you," the Goblin said, as it glanced pitifully up towards Nicholasia, who now held the sword inches from its neck, "the Pledge of 1818 forbids a Grimm to cut short the life of any creature in surrender. Are you not to take me to your council for further questioning and final judgment?"

Nicholasia subtly smiled.

"You're a clever one," she replied, "you do know your Grimm history, but there is a caveat!"

"And what might that be, Mastress?" it asked.

"I was never a member of the council," she replied, "they saw fit not to allow females to join. They do not understand that the heritage of being a Grimm is blind as to whether one is male or female. Despite the council's idiotic stance on whether they accept it or not, I AM a seventh generation Grimm! So to honor my lineage, I work solo, independent any such pledges!"

"But how could that be?" the Goblin confusedly asked, "We sent a message directly to the council, so how would you know of our request, if you were not a member?"

"I have sympathizers on that council, along with a few informers," Nicholasia replied, "believers who have realized, like I did long ago, that the council has been compromised by the likes of your kind and other pathetic inhuman scum that wander the night! I'm sure they have sent out someone. I just arrived here first!"

The Goblin held its head down.

"Either way, Mastress Grimm," it softly stated, "I plead for compassion!"

"Did any of your kind have compassion, when they tracked down my family those many years ago?" Nicholasia began, "I saw no compassion when our cabin was burned down to the ground and my Mother and Father impaled upon wooden stakes!

There certainly was no compassion, when I was forced to watch, as my little sister was literally torn apart by the hordes of hungry Hexenbeists and Blutbads on that terrible day!

Only by the grace of God and the blood lust of those creatures, that kept their attention on my mauled sister and away from me long enough, that I was able to escape into the woods and live to honor my heritage! So now, you have the nerve to ask me for compassion?"

"Yes, m' Lady," the Goblin softly replied, "I beg of you!"

"Well, I have no compassion, Goblin!" Nicholasia sternly stated.

"Then may your soul rot in hell!" the Goblin cried out.

"Now, there's something you don't know!" Nicholasia replied, "Grimms have no souls!"

She then took the Katanga and calmly chopped off the Goblin's head, cleanly and efficiently.

She kicked its head across the floor, retrieved her long coat, and quickly exited the castle, out into the still pouring rain.

Back upon her horse, she rode down the castle trail.

'It has turned out well.' she thought, 'Seven less creatures to walk the earth, but how many more? How many left in this world that I must track down and destroy, to honor my heritage and avenge my family?'

It was nights like this that sternly reminded Nicholasia of her destiny, responsibility, and inherent risk of being a Grimm. A reminder she promised to herself, long ago, to never forget.

For she may not have a soul, but she did have a passion, a stirring passion for being a Grimm and that was all Nicholasia Kessler ever needed or desired!


End file.
